


Miscible

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Domesticity, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Game Spoilers, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 09:29:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10988127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: "Don't be mad at Akira.He’s like family, Sojiro… like you. So, please… don’t be mad at him."[Coffee Family bonding.]





	Miscible

Sojiro wasn’t sure how it happened. He hadn’t wanted it, he hadn’t expected it, but here it was. And he still didn’t know, even after everything that had happened. Needless to say, he was a little stunned. And more than a little content.

 

 

A teenage delinquent was the last thing he needed to worry about. He had the shop, he had his daughter, he had a myriad of problems and that was _without_ this kid’s officers who would drag themselves into his shop, huffing and hunting for some reason to send the kid anywhere else but Yongen-Jaya.

Stuck in traffic, the kid in question gawking out the window of his car, Sojiro _wished_ they would have sent him anywhere than Yongen-Jaya. He had known he would regret this, and boy, was he right. He thought of Wakaba, though, and he couldn’t have chosen anything else.

Even if he looked for a reason to get rid of the kid at the first sign of trouble– because there would be trouble, no doubt, and Sojiro would not deal with it– he could say that he tried.

 

 

It surprised him, a little, when the kid didn’t… really _seem_ to be as much of a criminal as everyone made him out to be. He had heard the details of his arrest, and he had told him that was why you stayed out of adult’s problems, but he expected that if he went and did it once, he would do it again. He hadn’t done it _yet_ , though, and that was, yeah, pretty surprising.

He actually seemed to be a bit of diligent student, and he went out and got a cat and made a friend relatively quickly. Maybe that kept him out of trouble. Or maybe he was just planning even bigger trouble. Sojiro didn’t know. He didn’t want to care, either.

As long as he stayed out of his way, that was fine with him.

 

 

He brought over a girl– a _pretty_ girl– and a guy, and then more, friends that were a little eccentric but, basically, just teenagers. He worked several jobs, got decent grades, and Sojiro often caught him studying or reading over a cup of coffee and, asides the psychotic breakdowns in town and the spread of something called the ‘Phantom Thieves’, plus that bit of trouble at the school with that teacher, everything seemed to be normal.

Maybe Akira wasn’t as bad as he’d thought. He certainly seemed to be setting a good example, although Sojiro still didn’t know what he did in his free time outside of the cafe on nights where he would come home dragging his feet, looking tired, he _still_ didn’t _care_. As long as he wasn’t doing anything bad. As long as he wasn’t bothering anyone. As long as he stayed out of trouble.

Watching Akira make his first cup of coffee with the precision of someone trying very hard to do something very right, Sojiro thought that maybe the kid wasn’t one to look for trouble, anyway.

 

 

When Akira found out about Futaba, Sojiro was… a little relieved. He finally got to tell someone about her. And maybe… just maybe… Akira could… no. Sojiro hadn’t been able to do anything for Futaba, and if he hadn’t, Akira couldn’t.

But maybe…

No.

It was just nice to be able to open up about that part of his life, even if he didn’t quite understand why it was that Akira and his group of friends seemed to hang onto every word.

 

 

Worrying for her health was one thing, but when Futaba walked into Leblanc on her own accord and started speaking with both him _and_ Akira, like she’d been awake and aware for every day of her life since Wakaba’s death, Sojiro had to grip the bar to keep himself on his feet. He was so _relieved_ . He had done it. This dumb kid, this kid he’d hated in the beginning, this _criminal_ … he had done it. He had saved his daughter. He had saved his family.

He didn’t know how, or why, or _why now_ , but Akira had done it. He had done what Sojiro hadn’t had the strength to do. A complete stranger. He didn’t know what that said about himself, but he was just… glad.

Maybe he was good for her. Maybe he wasn’t a bad kid, after all.

He knew he wasn’t, he ascertained, watching as Futaba typed something on her phone. Akira’s phone made a noise; he glanced at the screen and then typed back. Futaba’s phone chimed. Were they texting each other? They were standing not even ten feet away from each other. Futaba read her message and snickered to herself as she texted back.

Well, whatever. As long as she was happy.

 

 

“Futaba? What are you doing here on your own?”

“I’m not on my own, you’re here.”

Sojiro huffed, crossing his arms. “You barely been out of the house,” he said honestly.

“They’re gonna…” she trailed off, looking towards the stairs leading to the attic. “They’re gonna, um, takemetothebeach.”

“What?”

“The beach! They’re taking me to the beach!”

_The beach._

“You’re excited about that now?” Akira asked, coming downstairs. “We can do today, if you want?”

“No no no no no!” Futaba shoved herself into the corner of the booth, cramming her knees up against her chest. “You can’t do this! I need more time!”

Akira quirked a smile, stopping next to the table. “I know.”

_I know?_

Akira had known her for all of, well, how many weeks had it been now? Sojiro had lost track. It had gone by in a blur. But _he knew_. How was it… he was so in-tune with Futaba…

“We’re just going to hang out with Ryuji and Ann,” Akira said patiently. “Alright?”

“I… I guess,” Futaba murmured.

“Come on.” He held a hand out to her.

Futaba sighed and took it, allowing him to help her to her feet.

How was it he had seemed to step into a… brotherly sort of persona with Futaba? And so quickly? Sojiro didn’t know. But he had.

Thank God.

 

 

When Futaba and Akira came home from the beach, it was late and Sojiro was starting to worry. It turned out he didn’t need to. Akira came in the door with Futaba trailing behind him, both of looking tired but… well, happy.

Futaba had sand in her hair and was poking at the reddened skin on one of Akira’s shoulders where his shirt had fallen away. She seemed to taking great delight in the fact that his sunburn would be amazing.

She asked for an iced coffee, and flopped down at the bar, and Morgana jumped onto the counter. Sojiro wanted to bristle, but Futaba started to play with the cat’s face and she just looked so _happy_ – and so did Akira, watching from the next seat over– that he couldn’t complain. He kind of wanted to gather _both_ of the kids into his arms and definitely not cry.

The fact that he wanted _both_ of them surprised him. Akira wasn’t his flesh and blood. Then again, Futaba hadn’t been either…

Huh.

 

 

“What are you two doing up here?!”

Really, he was minding his own business, casually ignoring the conversation turning to Shido in the cafe, when the _crash-bang_ from upstairs startled them all into silence.

Futaba froze, planted in front of the TV with two game controllers in her hands triumphantly, and Akira froze where he sat, sprawled on the floor, chair overturned. “Nothing!” Futaba said.

“You just scared the hell out of my customers downstairs,” Sojiro grumbled. He didn’t want to know. “You know what I said about making a racket when the shop’s open.”

“Sorry,” Akira said, pushing himself up. “I fell. I’ll be more careful.”

“Right.”

“Akira’s gonna take me out for crepes, anyway,” Futaba said, shoving the controllers onto the table. “Isn’t that right, Second Place AKA _Loser_?”

Akira huffed, picking up his chair. “Yeah, sure.”

“Yes!”

What had his life turned into that he had two rowdy children in the attic. Geesh. (He was happy. He was _so_ happy.) “I see she’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

“So- _jir_ -o, I want curry when we come home!”

“Buh– but you’re going out for crepes now!”

“That’s just a snack!”

“Ngh. Fine. Eating me out of the shop, I swear…”

“Eheheh, I’ll get my shoes!”

Akira looked at him, straightening up from turning the television off. “You’re wrapped around her finger, too.”

Sojiro’s laughter was almost a snort. He cleared his throat. “Yeah. She tends to cause that.”

 

 

When he found out that they were both Phantom Thieves, he would admit that his first thought was _Akira did this_ and then _oh my God, they’re the Phantom Thieves_. The worry won out; it turned to anger, as it tended to do with him, and he blamed Akira before he could stop himself. (It fit, though. It _fit_. Futaba hadn’t even left her room before Akira had met her.)

Somehow, though, he wouldn’t blame him _too_ much. Because if he hadn’t… stolen her heart, or… whatever… Futaba would probably still be stuck in her bedroom, nonverbal and dealing with whatever demons Sojiro couldn’t begin to fathom.

But the _Phantom Thieves_ … they would get themselves _killed…_ and God that was a mental picture he couldn’t _bear–_  

“I’ll protect her.”

Futaba had cried herself to sleep on Akira’s shoulder. Akira’s hands were clasped in his lap, and he looked all-around wrecked as it came, but his eyes were truthful.

“I won’t let anything hurt her. It’s my job.”

 _It’s really not_ , he meant to say. “You’d better,” he said instead. And then “… keep both of yourselves safe. You’re into some dangerous stuff, kid.”

Akira nodded, looking like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Hell, it probably was. He still offered to carry Futaba home. Sojiro told him to take it easy and did it himself.

Futaba stirred just as he was tucking her into bed. “Sojiro…”

“Oh, I was trying not to wake you,” he said, pulling the blanket closer around her.

“Don’t be mad at Akira,” she mumbled.

The sigh was involuntary. “I’m not.”

“He saved me.”

“I know.”

“He’s like family, Sojiro… like you. So, please… don’t be mad at him.”

 _Family_. _Like you_. Sojiro swallowed and smoothed his hand awkwardly over her hair. For being family, he sure never had learned how to be a good father. “I’m not. Go back to sleep, Futaba.”

“... mmkay… night.”

Sojiro scrubbed his hands against his face once he had closed the door behind him. God. Phantom Thieves. … Family. This was… a lot. Tonight was a lot.

He needed a drink.

 

 

Singular dinners turned into trio dinners at Leblanc often. Him and Akira and Futaba. Even when their friends came over instead, Akira and Futaba would end up playfully squabbling over coffee or the last bit of food, and Akira would gently derail the conversation if anyone started to pick on Futaba more than usual. Sojiro wasn’t concerned. It was harmless ribbing, if anything. They were all friends, and in Futaba’s own words, he and Akira were like family. Families teased, families squabbled. It was nice that they had one to be able to do that with, now.

So they ate dinner together and the kids fought over video games and there was a complaint or two about spending time in Book Town or the fishing pond, and Akira, Sojiro noticed, usually put up a fight for about point two seconds and then gave in, smiling to himself as he did. The one time she got the biggest reaction out of him was when he started dating the detective’s sister, Makoto, was it? and he had actually _rolled his eyes_ while simultaneously going red.

Better him dating than her. Ugh. _Dating_. Sojiro couldn’t imagine letting anyone date Futaba. He was confident enough in Akira to think that he would have to meet the guy first, too.

… no, he still didn’t want to think about it.

 

 

When that damn uncle of Futaba’s came and fell flat on his face in the shop, everything happened in such a blur that he ended up angry at Akira _again_. Even though he had done exactly… _completely_ … the best thing Sojiro could have asked for. Standing up for her.

He didn’t even touch the idiot, which was good, but he hadn’t even had to. (Nevermind that it would have had horrible repercussions. And still might. _Damn_.) Sojiro hadn’t even been able to step in when he had come at them, but Akira had put himself right into the line of danger. Again. Selfless kid. God, he must always be like this.

Now he was mumbling to a distraught Futaba, something about “won’t let anyone do that to you again” while Sojiro furiously searched around for his keys to take her home.

 

 

“It’s not just her, idiot. There’s another pretty important person living here, too.”

“Yeah, he’s talking about you, Akira!”

He wasn’t crying. He _wasn’t_. There was just something in his eye.

 _“Sit your butts down. This is where you two belong,”_ he had said, and it was true.

Hell, whatever was in his eye was really stubborn.

He glanced up from the pot of curry, watching as Futaba ruffled up Akira’s hair. He didn’t swat her away, just waited until she had looked away and then did the same back to her. _She_ protested the treatment, though.

“If Sojiro’s your dad, am I like your brother?”

Sojiro dropped the spoon he was using to taste with into the pot. “ _Shit_.”

“Hmm? I didn’t hear you.”

“I said…”

Sojiro placed the spoon into the sink and went to get another one. Akira was leaning across the table, one elbow propped on the tabletop. Futaba was glaring out the window across from him.

“ … of course you’re like my brother, you big dummy.”

“What was that?”

“No curry for you! Sojiro! No curry for him!!”

Sojiro rubbed his eyes. Maybe it was the onions. Yeah.

“Sojiro?”

Oh shit, now Akira was looking at him. Trust the kid to lay into _him_ now. He busied himself with fetching dishes. “Yeah?”

Futaba took over. “Are you crying? Again?”

“No!” He huffed. “Listen, the rice’ll be ready in about four minutes. If you want some of that tea in the fridge, you need to wash up and get it. I’m not doing everything for you two.”

“Awwww, not even for your favourite kids?” Futaba whined.

“If he doesn’t do it for us, who would he do it for?”

Crying in front of them was going to end up being the death of him, wasn’t it. Well, he wouldn’t change any of it. He loved them. He loved them _both_ , more than he could have ever imagined. He had been so frustrated, so hopeless with Futaba. He had been so unforgiving, cold, with Akira. And now… look at him, crying over his damn curry.

Pull it together, Sakura.

“Yeah, yeah! Sojiro needs to take care of us!”

“I thought you were so adamant taking care of yourself,” Sojiro muttered.

She heard him. “Nehhh… that’s true. I can take care of myself! I’m gonna wash! Back in a minute!”

“I’ll get your tea.”

“Sure! I want a lemon slice!”

“I know.”

 _I know_.

God, these kids were good. His family. These kids were his family. And he couldn’t ask for a better one. Not anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested by a person over on Tumblr who wanted Coffee Family with emphasis on Akira and Futaba's brother-sister relationship. Thought it would be fun to write from the POV of Sojiro as he watches both of them get closer.
> 
> Plus, Coffee Dad, so A+
> 
> I do not own _Persona 5_. If you have a request, find me on the Tumblrs~ Thanks!


End file.
